The Babysitter Diaries- Volume 1

I babysat my 4 year old niece yesterday.  It was without a doubt the most traumatic, hair-raising and heart-attack-inducing experience of my life.  But first, a bit of background.

My best friend Claire has been complaining that since she married Duncan and had the baby, she hasn’t been out on a proper date with her husband.  The first time she told me that, I laughed into my (4th) glass of wine (she had stopped drinking in an effort to lose the baby-weight) and said (rather tipsily) “Ha!  Bet you miss the single life!”  She walked out of my flat and didn’t speak to me for a week.

Narky cow. I was only joking.

I wasn’t being callous.  I was genuinely trying to cheer her up, and bear in mind I had consumed the best part of a bottle of Argentinian Red.  But I was tired of my married friends, my aunts and my alcoholic uncle Brian (more on that later) making stupid comments about people delaying to get married and have children.  Claire, sweet as she is, had turned into a smug-married and was constantly on my case, so I guess my remark was as a result of built-up leave-me-alone-ness.  That’s not English, but we’re not splitting hairs here.

Anyway, in an effort to make up with her and extend the olive branch, as it were, I offered to have Louise, Claire’s 4 year old daughter and my God-niece, spend the evening at mine so that Claire and Duncan could go out, have fun, and come back and have sex in all the rooms of their house before coming to pick up their daughter.  I’m not saying this is a common desire among married couples, but who knows.  You can take the freak out of Freakyville, but the freaky ain’t going nowhere.

Erm... yeah.

I digress.  I left work early and got home around 4.30pm, to tidy up and baby-proof my flat.  I am pretty tidy, but you know how it is- you get home exhausted after a day at the office, and you leave a trail of keys, earrings etc in your wake on any surface you pass on your way through the door.  I had shopped the day before and bought those cute little yoghurts, juices with pictures on them and cute plastic plates with matching spoons and cups for Louise.  She loves Barney, so I got her a cute little duvet with the purple dinosaur on it.  (Incidentally, I’ve never understood kids’ fascination with Barney.  He’s annoying as hell and if I was a four year old he’d scare the crap out of me, but anyway).

No. I won't.

5pm on the dot, Claire arrives, Louise in tow.  I had arranged some cushions in front of the TV, Cartoon Network was on. I was all set.  Claire almost threw the poor child at me, she was that excited.

“I can’t thank you enough for this!!  I’m so excited!!” she was all jumpy as she offloaded Louise’s overnight bag.  How could such a tiny person need so much stuff?? Apart from clothes, shoes, and a whole menagerie of stuffed animals, there was a selection of baby books, a pacifier, and a rather mangy looking blanket.  Claire caught me looking at it and immediately started to apologise.

“I know, gross isn’t it?  Its her Blankie.  God knows why she loves that thing but she can’t sleep without it.”

“Hmm… Okay.  So?  All set?  Sexy lingerie at the ready? Sex toys dusted off?”  I was always teasing Claire- when it came to sex she was a bit of a prude.

“Oh, stop it!!  But yes!! And Duncan’s taking me to my favourite restaurant.  I just hope I’m not too tired to have sex with him later, I’ve been so tired lately… You’ll understand when you have kids of your own…”

That was my cue.  I started ushering her out the door.  Claire gave her daughter a final hug and a kiss and was out the door.

Please note that up until this point Louise had been happily sitting in front of the TV, Blankie clenched in one fist and a thumb in her mouth.  As soon as the door went ‘click’, something happened.  All I know is that I have never heard a child, or a human, for that matter, scream like that.

I. Want. My. MUMMAAAAAAY!!!

Louise screamed loud enough to wake the dead.  I picked her up, walked around the flat, offered her juice (which was thrown on my carpet), a cute little yoghurt (she spat it back up on my brand new top).  I started to worry that my neighbours would call the cops on me.  Panicking, I reached for my phone to call Claire, hope that she wasn’t already having sex with her husband in the car and tell her to come and pick her child. 

But then I remembered a trick I had seen my mum use on my little brother, and started to walk around singing into Louise’s ear in an effort to calm her.  And it worked!!  She calmed down, I sat her down with Blankie in front of the TV and dashed into the kitchen to warm up dinner.

I decided it wouldn’t hurt to have a little drink myself, after the Wailing-Like-A-Banshee episode, especially since she had seemed to calm down and was enjoying the cartoons (we were on Dora the Explorer now.)

My sister had recently travelled to Europe and brought back some delicious sparkling wine.  In keeping with the child-visitor-in-the-house, I decided to use one of the Hello Kitty cups I got for Louise.  (0k, I admit, I haven’t exactly outgrown Hello Kitty myself.  Don’t judge me, ok?)

A glass of wine while cooking never hurt anyone... HIC!

In between sips of sparkling wine (which tasted very different when drunk from a Hello Kitty plastic tumbler), I would check on my niece.  After her 20 minute child-from-The-Exorcist impression, she actually looked quite cute sitting in front of the telly.  Watching her from the doorway, I suddenly started feeling broody, and allowed myself a brief daydream.  There I was, with my Mother Earth glow, wearing sandals and a maxi dress (Moschino and River Island, respectively), balancing a gorgeous chocolate brown baby on one hip and looking across the living room at my handsome husband (who, in this particular daydream, bore an uncanny resemblance to Idris Elba).  I snapped myself out of my reverie and, stepping back into the kitchen, topped up my glass and poured Louise some apple juice, all the while thinking how cute those Hello Kitty cups were.

I went back into the living room and sat on the floor next to my niece.  She snuggled up to me and my heart melted.So what if she almost screamed down the building?  I allowed myself another daydream where Louise was my child (minus the devilish tendencies) and we were a mother and daughter duo, watching cartoons as we waited for my gorgeous Idris-Elba-look-alike husband to come back from work...

Honey... I'm home...

I was dragged back to reality when my phone rang.  Making sure that Louise was comfortable, I grabbed my phone and went to the kitchen, thinking I'd check on the food as I got rid of whoever was calling.  Which was easier said than done, seeing as it was my Aunt Liz, asking if I'd called her friend Maria's son yet. In my aunt's mind, Charles and I are already halfway up the aisle and I am 6 months pregnant, so she cant understand why I am resisting the guy's (persistent, not to mention creepy) advances. I finally got her off the phone after about 20 agonising minutes.  Pausing by the loo before rejoining my niece, it occurred to me that Louise's appreciative giggles at what was happening on the screen had grown quiet.

Thinking she had fallen asleep, I crept back into the sitting room, to find her very much awake.  And one of the Hello Kitty cups very empty.  MY Hello Kitty cup, to be precise. I panicked.  Picking Louise up, I looked into her eyes and she smiled at me, her baby breath smelling faintly of Iron Horse 2005.  Immediately, her head dropped to my shoulder and she was fast asleep.

"Oh. My. GOD!!" I said out loud. "I've turned Claire's baby into a drunk!!" Trying not to drop Louise, I grabbed my phone from where I had nonchalantly dropped it in the kitchen and immediately called Noah, one of my best friends and one of the best paediatricians I know. 

He answered after what felt like 100 rings.  I've told him a million times to change his bloody ringtone (Angela by Sizzaman.  Yes, I know.  I need to re-evaluate the type of people I hang out with.) but will the fool listen to me?  Of course not.

Finally, I got through.  He sounded sleepy.

"Hello?  HELLO??!!!" I felt like I was losing my mind.

"Eh, you squeeze, why are you shouting?"

"Noah!!  Noah, thank God.  you have to help me, I think I've poisoned Louise!  She drank out of my Hello Kitty and..."

"Woah, woah wait.  Who drank from the kitty?"

"LOUISE, Claire's daughter.  She's mine tonight and I answered the phone and she drank out of my cup oh my God what am I going to tell Claire???..." I think I started hyperventilating at this point.

"Waaaait a minute.  Siima, I need you to calm down."

I think I need to interrupt this narrative at this point and explain.  Noah, bless his heart, is a brilliant doctor.  Unfortunately, he is also a fan of Weed. Grass, Ganja, Mary J, call it what you will. 

Hey hey hey hey! Smoke weed everyday!

 So if you happen to call him when he's been smoking trees, be prepared to be frustrated.

To my detriment, this was such a moment.

"You had a kitty and she drank from the Louise.  That aint right, man," said Noah.  Clearly stoned.  the idiot.  Just when I needed help!

"Noah Ainembabazi!!" I tried to channel my mother.Usually her calling me by my full names sobers me up immediately.  And it worked!

"Noah, what should one do when a child has drunk alcohol?  She has fallen asleep but I'm scared. What should I do?"

Something got through to him.  Thank goodness.

"Ok, how much did she drink?"

"It was just a small tumbler.  Not even a full one.  But she drained the damn thing!"

"Ok.  Is she crying?  Vomiting?" If he was trying to calm me down, it wasnt working.

"No.  Neither!!  She just smiled at me and fell asleep."

"Ah, she'll be fine then.  When she wakes up, just make sure she drinks some milk, she'll be fine..." I heard

Noah take another toke, the fool.

"Noah, stop smoking and focus!!  Claire will be picking her up in three hours, what do I tell her?!"

"Tell 'er di chile fell sleep," he said.  I figured he was channeling Bob Marley again.

"Noah.  NOAH!!  Is that all I need to do?  Are you sure?"

"I'm sure.  Call me in three hours if there is any change."

And he hung up on me.

I sat holding Louise for the next three hours.  She slept blissfully, while I kept having nightmares of being arrested for child neglect.

Finally, the dreaded hour rolled around and I heard Claire and Duncan outside my door.  They both sounded merry and when I opened the door it was obvious they had had a great night.  (Claire's weave wasn't straight so I figured that wasn’t all they'd had.  But that's none of my business.)

"Sheema!!" You could tell how drunk Claire was when she started slurring.  The way she said my name said it all. 

Duncan grinned sheepishly from the doorway.

Ugh. Sickening.

"Shank you for looking after our beautiful daughter, you lovely auntie!" Claire moved to the couch to pick up Louise, who hadn’t yet stirred.  I can’t remember the last time I went to church, but I prayed to every deity willing to listen that my niece was fine.

Claire looked at me in amazement.

"How did you get her to sleep like this?" I thought that I was rumbled, until Claire said, "I bet you did that singing thing that Auntie Sara used to do for Baingana!  Tell me, which song did you use?  I've tried, but you

know my problem!" Claire is notoriously tone-deaf.

I stammered.  I couldnt help it. "I...I cant remember.  Just some useless tune I heard on the radio..."

"Anyway, thanks for tonight," Duncan chipped in.  Cant guess why HE was in a hurry.  "Sweetheart, let's go,"

I ushered Claire to the door for the second time that day, this time with her sleeping daughter and all her luggage

in tow.  Just as they walked out, Claire turned and said "Dont worry.  Louise has an amazing memory for a 4 year

old.  She'll probably keep singing whatever tune it was soon as she wakes up..."

As if she knew what was going on, Louise chose this moment to open her eyes.  looking thrilled to see her mum,

(ungrateful brat) she smiled and waved at me.

"Hello, beautiful girl.  Did you have fun with Auntie Siima?  What song did she sing for you, hunh?"

Looking right at me, Louise burst into song.

"sawa-sawa-sawa-leh, sawa-sawa-sawa-leh, sshhhhhhh....."

No more babysitting for me, evidently.